


A proper lady

by Nikelaos



Series: Ours is the fury [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Post Season 8, missing moment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-18
Updated: 2019-09-18
Packaged: 2020-10-21 03:28:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,051
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20686757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikelaos/pseuds/Nikelaos
Summary: One night, in his solar, Gendry received a raven, and he thought to what a being a proper lady is, and he didn't like it.





	A proper lady

**Author's Note:**

> This is a missing moment of my fic "Ours is the fury". Better, it is set before the first chapter. I suggest reading that fiction first.

With only a few half-consumed candles that illuminated the room, Gendry studied the trade reports of the last month. They had gone better than the previous month, perhaps thanks to the new people who had arrived in the Stormlands. His head jerked up as someone knocked on the door.

«Come in»

Ser Farring was standing at the door with a parchment in his hand.

He snorted.

Who knows why, but he suspected to know what it was.

«A raven for you, my lord»

«Read it, please,» he whispered, tired, «I've been reading documents all day and my eyes are burning.»

«As you wish,» replied the man, removing the sigil and opening the parchment «It's Lord Errol, my lord,» he said, as his eyes travelled on the words «he will be here the day after tomorrow,» he looked up, «with his daughter Leya»

«For Gods' sake,» he swore under his breath, running a hand over his eyes. «How old is she?»

Ser Farring blushed slightly, «I think six and ten.»

Gendry chuckled hysterically, «Ten years younger than me, a child in practice,» he snorted, «At least she's not the youngest of those they brought here,» he shook his head, «Last year they presented me a three and ten-year-old girl,» he rose from his chair and approached the window, to observe the umpteenth storm that raged in the night.

«They nauseate me,» he whispered, disgusted. «they treat their daughters as trade goods,» he gritted his teeth, «they give away their own flesh and blood in exchange of what? Visibility? Power?»

«That’s how it works, my lord.» Ser Farring explained uneasily, «this is a lady’s role: to create alliances through marriage and to give heirs to the Houses, and a proper lady knows it.»

Gendry spun around, barely holding back his fury, «The fact that this is how it works doesn’t mean it’s right,» he paused, «and that's not true. I have known ladies with much more courage, intelligence, strength and determination than many lords who find themselves at the head of their Houses just because they are men,» he paused «Lady Lyanna Mormont, at ten, took the reins of her House, she defended the North in two battles and, at twelve, she killed a giant, she had herself crushed to death, and succeeded. Lady Marya led the House Seaworth while her husband was away on wars. Ser Brienne commanded thousands of men during the Long Night, including Jamie Lannister. _He_ had served _under_ her and now she is the Captain of the Kingsguard. Queen Sansa has taken Northern independence with great intelligence» he bit his lip «Lady Arya Stark killed the Night King. For not mentioning the Free Folk women,» he narrowed his eyes «should I go on?»

«No, my lord,» he whispered, embarrassed, bowing his head, «but the fact remains that you must have a wife,» he added, taking courage, «House Baratheon needs an heir,» he swallowed, «Also Ser Davos insists, and the King,» he frowned, «Strangely, he doesn't say anything»

Gendry snorted, «Perhaps because King Bran knows that the priority now is the people, certainly not a son,» he closed his eyes, rubbing his temples, «Please, leave me alone,» he concluded, «I'm exhausted.»

«As you wish. Do you want me to prepare you a bath?» he asked, looking worried at how tired his lord was.

«No, thanks,» he replied, «I still have to finish here and I don't know how long it will take. I'll take care of it when I'm done.»

The man merely nodded and left the room after bowing to his lord. Once Ser Farring had left the room, Gendry approached the desk again, picked up the quill and looked absently at the scrolls on the table. Puffing, he put it down: he was too tired, he couldn't do anything. He looked up at the wall of his solar and saw _the_ weapon on it.

The spear he had built for Arya. 

He had found it on the battlements looking for Arya after the battle and he had felt the purest terror not seeing her, believing that she was dead. Then he saw her come cover in blood and tired, pushing the wheelchair with her unharmed brother and he breathed a sigh of relief. He had kept the pieces of the spear and repaired them, intending to give the weapon to her... but before he could do it, Daenerys had named him lord and everything had fallen apart. He went over and picked it up, remembering those days.

He had worked tirelessly to give her the best weapon she could have, and then he went back to make the other weapons. When, before the battle, he had searched her to bring her the spear, surely he didn't imagine that the evening had taken that turn. He didn't expect anything. It was undeniable that he was attracted to her: she had become a beautiful woman, full of fire and passion under that icy expression, but he was still a lowborn, a bastard, of royal blood, but still a bastard, and she a lady. He couldn't have certain thoughts and desires towards her.

And yet, to his surprise, it was she who made the first move, and seeing how she treated him later, she was probably just curious, one wasn't different from any other ones.

_ But if one wasn't different from any other ones to her, she would have neither looked at you nor kissed you in that way... _ that hateful voice belonging to his hope whispered.

Although three years had passed, he remembered everything. The strange logical step by which they had passed from talking about the fact that the Brotherhood had sold him like a sack of potatoes to talk about sex, the taste and feel of her skin under his lips, how, after the initial uncertainty given by her inexperience, she had ridden him, how she had collapsed on his chest trembling when they both reached the peak...

Certainly, not a proper lady's behaviour. Septas don't teach to their ladies to be so passionate in bed...

He shook his head violently, trying to eliminate those memories that did nothing but hurt him and put the spear back in its place, blew out the candles and left the solar, toward the forge.

_ I don't want a proper lady. _

**Author's Note:**

> I've plans to write other one-shot or drabble based on missing moments of that story, you can find in the series. If you have some request about missing moments you'd like to read, feel free to ask.
> 
> Thank you for reading, I'll wait for you for Chapter 9 of "Ours is the fury"


End file.
